


In Orbit We Stay

by nu-exo (Nekohime)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Chanyeol being in over his head, M/M, Mild Language, Sex, Shower Sex, Violence, a very mild panic attack, a wild Kris appears, top chen ftw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 08:17:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12008727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekohime/pseuds/nu-exo
Summary: Where fresh out of the Academy Officer Park Chanyeol is WAY in over his head, and Chen -the master class space thief he arrests - takes some pity on him.





	In Orbit We Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #30 "Infamous space thief Chen is caught by accident by newly appointed space cop, Park Chanyeol. Now all Chanyeol has to do is survive the trip back to headquarters, except he might not because Chen keeps short-circuiting his ship and he (almost) never shuts up."
> 
> I just wanted to say thank you to the prompter for submitting this, I fell in love with it as soon as I saw it. I too live for Chen making things difficult for Chanyeol, and I had a lot of fun writing this. 
> 
> The whole thing kind of got away from me and ended up much longer than I had planned, but I hope you enjoy how it turned out!
> 
> Also shout out to my friend who doesn't even read for this ship for beta'ing my draft for me!!
> 
> Thank you for reading!

            

 

            Holy shit. Holy shit. _Holy shit_.

            Sitting in the worn leather of his pilot seat, sweating clear through his thin undershirt to the thick material of his fitted uniform jacket, Chanyeol was freaking out. He was speeding through the Baylor Asteroid Belt, pushing his poor second hand cruiser as hard as it could go. He knew he was running the risk of engine failure out in what was essentially the middle of nowhere – let alone the fact that he was technically abandoning the post he was so recently given – but it couldn’t be helped. If he could get to an Enforcement Station then he’d be saying bye-bye to his shit post and hello to a promotion, screw Do Kyungsoo and his petty grudges. He’d only set him on fire _once_ , and by accident to boot. Definitely not worth assigning Chanyeol to be a glorified tug-boat for stranded travelers.

            Letting out a shaky laugh, Chanyeol quickly wiped his sweaty palms against the dark fabric of his pants. The joke would be on Kyungsoo, though. After all, in his pseudo exile by his very vengeful, very tiny CO, Chanyeol had caught something _absolutely amazing_.

            He could see it now as he watched far away stars and asteroid debris pass by the cockpit’s window. The faces of all his commanding officers when newly minted officer Park Chanyeol – bumbling, clumsy, burns everything he touches, Chanyeol – shows up at Central with a criminal that at least five systems wanted a piece of. He’d be a hero on Helios, his mom would be so proud. Chanyeol smiled. Hell, he might even get a para-

            The cruiser ground to a sudden, jarring halt sending Chanyeol flying head first out of the pilot’s seat, effectively interrupting his fantasizing.

            “Motherfu- _ow_ ,” he groaned, trying to regain his bearings as the ship powered down around him, a dull whine ringing in the air that may or may not have been because of how hard he’d bumped his head in the fall.

            Disentangling his long limbs from where they’d gotten wrapped in the wires littering the floor, Chanyeol slowly stood up. He yanked at his jacket, the stiff, formfitting material somehow having managed to hike itself up to his ears when he’d gone sprawling. After mashing a few buttons and getting no response from the ship, Chanyeol leaned on the control console, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face and through his hair.

            Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, Chanyeol squared up his shoulders and pushed off from the console, his stride long but brisk as he swept out of the cockpit. The cruiser he’d been given wasn’t big, which was the norm for new officers, and while it wasn’t the best – because that had been given to Baekhyun whose scores had outbalanced how much of a terror he’d been in the Academy – it wasn’t an absolute piece of crap either. Even Kyungsoo wouldn’t send him out to deep space with a ship that couldn’t easily make a hyper-space jump. The fact that it suddenly dropped out of a jump and powered down, only the dim emergency lights and the atmosphere generator still on, meant that somehow his “precious” cargo had gotten loose. Again.

 

 

            It didn’t take long for Chanyeol to climb down to the cargo hold, which was little more than a normal, bedroom-sized empty compartment where Chanyeol occasionally stored his food bundles. He paused outside the door, listening for any signs of movement coming from within. When he didn’t hear anything he closed his eyes and focused in on his core, finding the mini sun that all Helions carried around inside them, forcing his body temperature to rise until the air around him was shimmering from the heat. Despite what people at the Academy thought, Chanyeol wasn’t a complete idiot. He knew better than to go into a room with a hostile unprepared.

            He pressed his palm against the scanner and braced himself as the door hissed open.

 

            “Took you long enough,” said the man leisurely lying amongst boxes of fruits and dried meats. He plucked out a bright pink Tanzarian plum and took a big bite, the fruit’s pale pink juice glistening on the bow of his lips. “I think you’re reaction time is finally getting faster.”

            Chanyeol’s eyes narrowed in irritation and suspicion, warily noting that the anti-conductive cuffs he’d put the prisoner in had been tossed off to the side. They were blackened around the edges with curls of smoke trailing off them, utterly useless.

            His gaze returned to the smaller man whose sharp eyes hadn’t left Chanyeol since he’d stepped into the hold. Like a predator sizing up its prey.

            Chanyeol quickly ran through the info he’d memorized from the Space Commission’s file.

 

            Alias: Chen. A thief that the Intergalactic Space Commission had been chasing for the better part of ten cycles. He’d robbed just about anyone worth robbing and then given half the stuff he’d stolen away, because it wasn’t the jewels or artifacts or priceless heirlooms he was after, it was the reputation that came with being able to actually pull shit like that off. He’d keep the things he liked and occasionally worked for hire, for the right price of course. He was considered an A-Class criminal, the highest rank for non-violent offenders. Because, so far, Chen hadn’t dropped a single body in his path of pillaging. Something missing from the Commission’s file, though, was how Chen managed to execute his heists. Apparently there was no evidence as to his break-in methods at any of his crime scenes. Which, Chanyeol supposed, spoke volumes to how far the Commission was from catching the man.

            Now, finding himself face to face with the notorious criminal and having to actually deal with him, Chanyeol figured he had a pretty good idea of how Chen was getting in and out of high security places without setting off any alarms. After all, shutting down a security system, no matter how expensive or complex, was probably child’s play for a Tempian.

            It was common knowledge that even the weakest Tempian could control electrical currents, while the strongest were rumored to be able to whip up thunderous storms. Even in space.

            “Can you stop fu- messing with my ship?” Chanyeol said, giving the man in front of him his best glare. Baekhyun said it made him look like an Earth dog, one of those big ones with the floppy ears, but Chanyeol thought it usually worked pretty well and that Baekhyun was just trying to be an ass.

            Chen just snorted and took another bite of his plum, his tongue flicking out to swipe at the excess juices on his lips. Chanyeol tried his very best not to let his eyes follow the little action, evidently failing if Chen’s knowing smirk was anything to go by.

            “How about ‘no’?” he drawled, lazily crossing one leg over the other. “Unless you’d like to let me go, in which case that ‘no’ might turn into a ‘maybe’.”

            Chanyeol narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. Chen sighed, his head tipping back, revealing the long column of his neck.

            “Come on,” he groaned, letting his head loll forward, his tone laced with irritation. His eyes flashed in a way that made the hairs on Chanyeol’s neck stand on end, the first cracks in the teasing mask Chen had put on since the moment he’d been arrested. “No one has to know, Officer— sorry man, I forgot your name.”

            “Officer Park,” Chanyeol said through his teeth, eye twitching.

            “Right, right,” Chen said waving a dismissive hand at him. “Officer Park, we could go our separate ways in peace. I would even be willing to throw in a little something…extra,” at this Chen leered, the curl of his lips and way he dragged his eyes down Chanyeol’s body promising things Chanyeol refused to let himself think about.

            “Or,” the leer shifted into something sharp and feral, his eyes flashing like lightning in a thunder storm, “I could shut down your ship’s atmosphere generator for everywhere but this little storage room and wait until you suffocate. Your choice.”

 

            A small part of Chanyeol’s brain was telling him that he should, in no way, be turned on by how Chen’s voice had dropped, or how the thief’s gaze felt like it was burning through him, sending a chill down Chanyeol’s back while heat pooled in his cheeks. He quickly squashed that voice, straightening his back so that he towered at his full height, determined not to show how tempted and terrified he was by the much smaller Tempian.

            He had to keep his eye on the prize. All he needed to do was last until they made it to a Station and then he’d be golden. _Focus, Park_.

            Chen shifted where he was sprawled, the muscles in his arms flexing with the movement, strong biceps on full view courtesy of the sleeveless under gear he was wearing. Chanyeol’s hands squeezed into fists, his nails pressing into his palms. Focusing would be so much easier, though, if the man in front of him wasn’t stupidly attractive and just Chanyeol’s type.

            “You can threaten me all you’d like, but I’m still going to cuff you again and you are still going to be under arrest,” Chanyeol said, his voice coming out steady despite the slight shake in his hands. He took a small breath to calm his racing heart before continuing. “Besides, you’ve never killed anyone during your jobs before, I don’t see why you would suddenly murder a cop now.”

            “I’ve also never been caught before,” the Tempian scoffed before his eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said.

            Chanyeol allowed a small smirk to pull at the corner of his lips. “That must’ve been hard to admit.”

            Chen narrowed his eyes, chucking the rest of the Tanzarian plum at Chanyeol’s head. The plum shriveled up in the barrier of heat surrounding Chanyeol before it could even get close, dropping to the floor with a light _plink!_

            “Best you can do?” Chanyeol joked, feeling uncharacteristically brave.

            Chen eyed him, his jaw clenched, before he seemed to come to some sort of decision and changed tactics.

            “Whatever,” he sighed, tipping his head back to thunk against the wall, his arms and legs arranged in an elegant sprawl. “Just put the damn cuffs back on.”

            Chanyeol paused, caught off guard by how quickly Chen had given up and not believing it for one second.

            The thief raised an eyebrow, holding his arms out, wrists together. “Well?”

            “Wha- that’s it? You’re just going let me?” Chanyeol asked, spluttering. “Last time I came down here you tried to tackle me and make a run for the cockpit.”

            “Yes,” Chen said, a saccharine smile on his face, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he gestured towards a pile of burnt clothes, “and you see how well that worked out for me.”

            Chanyeol felt his ears pink, embarrassment flaring at his earlier power slip even if it _was_ out of self-defense.

            “Who even lets a Helion that can’t control their powers pilot a ship anyway?” Chen continued. “Isn’t that a safety hazard or something?”

            Chanyeol grumbled under his breath, carefully stepping closer, eyeing Chen in case he decided to make any sudden attempts for freedom again.

            “I can control my powers perfectly well,” he muttered, unhooking the fresh pair of cuffs that he’d swiped before coming down here. If this kept up he was going to burn through his supply sooner rather than later. “Hands out. No funny business.”

            Chen snorted but complied. “Yes sir.”

            Crouching in front of the thief, Chanyeol was ten times more conscious of how the dim lighting of the cargo hold caught on the man’s cheekbones, casting dramatic shadows on his face. It made him look dangerous and sharp, and Chanyeol belatedly noticed the scent of ozone in the otherwise stale air.

            “What’s wrong?” Chen purred when Chanyeol froze, his hands a hairs breadth away from the thief’s. “Aren’t you gonna cuff me, _officer_?”

            Chanyeol’s whole body went hot as he sucked in a sharp breath, blood rushing south. A small voice in the back of his head that sounded disturbingly like Baekhyun’s was whispering that Chanyeol’s taste for small deadly things was going to get him killed, but it went completely ignored. The temptation to take up Chen’s earlier offer just to find out what he’d meant by _throwing in something extra_ was thundering through his veins, making his uniform too tight and the cargo hold too small.

            Chanyeol was brought crashing back to the moment before his mind could wander further, though, by Chen throwing his head back in a loud, full-bodied laugh. The smell of ozone receded as the thief smacked Chanyeol on the shoulder, hard, multiple times, his cackle trailing off into a soundless laugh.

            Chanyeol stared, wide-eyed and confused, the muscles in his legs starting to burn from holding himself in a crouch.

            “Why’re you laughing?” he finally asked, the irritation of so blatantly being made fun of shocking his system back into action.

            “You!” Chen crowed, his eyes literally glowing with mirth, blue sparks of electricity crackling in his hair.

            “Fuck you,” Chanyeol bit back automatically, as if he were talking with one of his Academy friends, completely dropping any pretext of authority or formality.

            “You don’t get it,” Chen continued, ignoring the officer entirely, “I’ve been sitting here thinking that there’s no way you’re as green as you seem. That there’s no way the first time I get pinched it’s by some freshly graduated recruit because of a faulty emergency beacon of all things. But here you are!” He shoved his hands forward as if to say _ta-da_ , a wide, curling smile on his face. “You even forgot to activate the conductor function on the cuffs you put me in!”

            Chanyeol immediately looked down at the pair of cuffs he was about to latch onto the other man’s wrists and realized that, fuck, he was right. No wonder the Tempian had made such quick work of the last three pairs, Chanyeol thought, his ears and cheeks burning with embarrassment.

            “Let me guess,” Chen leaned forward, invading Chanyeol’s personal space, causing the Helion to tip back onto his ass. “The outer edge of the Baylor Belt was your first posting out of the Academy?”

            “Wha-“

            “Must’ve pissed someone off to get such a shit job,” Chen mused, still uncomfortably close.

            Chanyeol blinked, his mind caught between trying to get the situation back under control and noticing just how pronounced the curls at the ends of the thief’s lips were, almost to the point of being feline. “I-“

            “Was it Captain Kim?” Chen asked, tilting his head, dark eyes trained on Chanyeol’s, watching for a reaction. “Nah, probably not Junmyeon. He’s too soft, not nearly spiteful enough to plop a new cop out in the middle of nowhere.” He paused. “How about Lieutenant Do, then? I remember his temper being shorter than him.”

            Chanyeol frowned, his mouth open. “Wh- you- how?”

            Chen smirked, leaning even closer, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Chanyeol flinched back.

“How do I know the names of people in the Commission?”

Chanyeol nodded, giving up on forming coherent sentences, distracted by how Chen was all but in his lap.

            “They tried to catch me once or twice,” he said with a nonchalant shrug, smile teasing and tone conspiratorial. “Didn’t go very well for them, obviously.”

            “Holy Sun,” Chanyeol breathed, staring at the man in front of him with a look somewhere between awe and abject horror. “You’re the reason Kyungsoo got demoted. He wants to kill you, you know.”

            Chen’s eyebrows shot up, his teeth flashing in a grin that was way too feral for Chanyeol’s liking.

            “Oh really.” He was inching forward again, forcing Chanyeol further and further back. “Sounds like fun to me.”

            Chanyeol’s back hit the cargo hold’s wall, cool and unyielding. Chen didn’t stop, sidling up until Chanyeol could feel light puffs of breath hitting his chin, coming from between the thief’s slightly parted lips.

            Chanyeol was so distracted by the way Chen’s tongue was poking out to wet his bottom lip that he almost didn’t notice the hand reaching for the standard issue blaster strapped to his thigh. It was only when he heard the click of the holster being popped open that Chanyeol snapped out of the daze he’d slipped into.

            “ _Fuck!_ ” he hissed, his hand flying to his blaster, trapping the thief’s hand where it was in a vice grip. The material of his uniform jacket went taut as his muscles flexed, straining to pry Chen’s fingers away from the weapon. He glared, muscle in his jaw jumping. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

            Chen just smirked, his skin beginning to glow with arcs of pale blue energy charging up just under the surface.

            Operating on panic fueled instinct, Chanyeol kicked his leg forward as hard as he could. His foot slammed into the Tempian’s chest, sending the smaller man flying backwards with a startled yelp. Chen crashed back into a pile of boxes, and before he could recover, Chanyeol had launched himself forward, blaster and cuffs in hand.

            He managed to get one wrist locked in before Chen was twisting in his grip, snarling, viciously kneeing Chanyeol in the gut. Chanyeol wheezed, breath knocked out of him, and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the hand coated in crackling energy that Chen had shoved towards his face. Chanyeol tried to raise his blaster only to have a heavy boot come down on his wrist and a bruising punch slam into his face, leaving him dazed. He cried out, white dotting his vision as Chen ground his heel in, determined to get the officer to relinquish his weapon.

            “Just let it go,” Chen growled, towering over Chanyeol. He was breathing heavy, exertion and the heat of the room leaving every inch of bare skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his bangs sticking to his forehead. “Just let the damn thing go, officer.”

            Chanyeol glared up at him as best he could, head still swimming. He tried to focus on the heat rising under his skin until his own perspiration was curling off him in tendrils of steam.

            “ _Fuck no_.”

            Chen’s mouth pressed into a firm line, his eyes dark, jaw tense. “Fine.”

            He dropped down into a crouch, his other knee coming down hard on the junction just before Chanyeol’s shoulder, digging in to the sensitive area. Chanyeol bit down on his bottom lip until he tasted blood, swallowing down the gurgle of pain that was trying to bubble up.   He flinched back when Chen reached down with his cuffed hand to run his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair, gripping hard at the copper strands.

            “So pretty,” he sighed, tilting his head. “It really is a shame we couldn’t meet under different circumstances. We could’ve had some fun.”

“Fuck you,” Chanyeol spat, testing movement in his right arm as discreetly as possible, his own skin beginning to glow ever so slightly. He’d have to be careful with what he was planning. If he started a fire with his head still jarred from the punch he’d taken earlier he wouldn’t be able to control it. He wanted to get the smaller man off him, not blow them both up.

            Chen’s lips twitched, a bemused look passing across his face. “Sorry, but no.”

            “Now,” he continued, bringing his un-cuffed hand up, grazing it over Chanyeol’s cheek to watch the sparks of electricity jump off his fingers onto the Helion’s skin. “I’m not gonna lie, this’ll definitely hurt. You’re going to wake up with the mother of all headaches, but hey,” he smiled cheerily, “at least you won’t be dead.”

            “Again,” Chanyeol growled, muscles tensed, “ _Fuck. You_.”

            Before he could think his plan through, Chanyeol arched his back with all the strength in his body, moving his head to narrowly dodge the Tempian’s hand. Chen’s eyes went wide, tilting just enough off balance to give Chanyeol the opening he needed to switch their positions, rolling with the falling momentum of the other man’s body.

            Chanyeol’s blaster was almost immediately knocked away, Chen swatting at it even as he toppled over. Undeterred, Chanyeol grappled with the thief, grunting in pain when Chen managed to secure a hand in his hair again, yanking harshly. Always one to give as good as he gets, Chanyeol grabbed a fistful of Chen’s hair, pulling the dark strands and letting the overheated skin of his knuckles press against the Tempian’s scalp.

            “ _Motherfucker!_ ” Chen squawked when he registered the burning pain, his eyes going comically wide, immediately redirecting his efforts to prying Chanyeol’s hand away from his head. He made a strangled sound when his hands came into contact with Chaneyol’s skin, retracting them as quickly as he could. It obviously hadn’t registered to him that if Chanyeol’s knuckles were hot, then the rest of his skin would be too. “That fucking _burns_!”

            “No shit,” Chanyeol huffed, finally managing to turn the tables on the smaller man and pin him to the floor, one hand holding his arms down while the other struggled with Chen’s cuffs.

            “No!” Chen growled, trying to throw Chanyeol off, muscles straining in a way that was almost too distracting for Chanyeol’s poor addled mind to handle. “Get the fuck off!”

            “Shut up,” Chanyeol grumbled, making an effort to avoid staring at the other man’s well-defined arms. He could feel his ears burning and it was really _not_ the time to be contemplating how nice it would be to touch all those pretty, pretty muscles.

            Too focused on trying to wrangle the other into his cuffs, Chanyeol didn’t notice Chen tilting his head back, tendons in his neck tensed, until it was too late and pain was blooming out from Chanyeol’s nose.

            To his credit, Chanyeol barely flinched despite how his nose was throbbing and his temperature fluctuated, a flicker of orange appearing briefly in his periphery before going out. Chen, on the other hand, reared back so quickly that his head thunked painfully against the storage room’s floor. He groaned, face scrunched up in a wince and his forehead turning red, his previous struggle forgotten in favor of loudly complaining about his pain.

            “Great Storms, just what are you made of?” he whined, blinking up at Chanyeol, his brows furrowed and lips pushed out into a pout.

            “You are under arrest,” Chanyeol sighed, ignoring Chen’s indignant huff and finally clicking the cuffs into place, remembering to turn the conductor function on this time, “again.”

            “Do you really have to say that _every_ time?” Chen snapped, rubbing gingerly over his forehead when Chanyeol finally let him up. “I got it the first time, you don’t need to keep on-“ he paused, staring. “What are you doing?”

            “Cuffing you,” Chanyeol stated matter-of-factly.

            “I see _that_. My question is _why_ are you putting them on my _ankles_?” he asked, flailing his legs for emphasis.

            “Because I’m tired of coming down here every time you manage to wriggle out of your restraints. If I could just put you in a giant bag and be done with it, believe me, I would.”

            Chanyeol would’ve laughed at how offended the thief looked at the prospect of being stuffed in a bag like the rest of the storage room’s contents, but the flash of pain that flared up just from twitching his cheek told him it wouldn’t be worth it. Helion’s had strong bones – something Chen had gotten to find out first hand – but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch if enough force was applied. Like say, with a boot, or a head-butt.

            As if on cue, blood dripped down Chanyeol’s chin, darkening the material of his uniform where it landed. Looking at the floor, Chanyeol grimaced at the smattering of drops that had landed there.

Oh well, he’d clean that up once he’d delivered Chen to a Station.

            “Hey,” Chen said, bringing Chanyeol back from mourning his bloodied floor. “You aren’t actually gonna leave me tied up like this, right? What if I need to use the bathroom?”

            “Then you wriggle over and press that button,” Chanyeol said, standing up and pointing to the room’s intercom.

            “That’s it?”

            “Yes. No more fucking with my ship, please. We’re still a month’s travel away from the nearest Commission outpost without a hyper-space jump, and I’d really rather not be stuck with you for that long.”

            “Have you ever thought that maybe I don’t _want_ to make it to a Commission outpost?” Chen asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

            Chanyeol paused by the door, the adrenaline that had been pumping through his system earlier slowly seeping away to be replaced by a bone deep exhaustion.

            “I’m assuming you don’t want to be stuck out here in the middle of nowhere either, though,” Chanyeol said, raising an eyebrow. “Just floating in space. A sitting duck for any band of opportunistic raiders that might wander by. All of whom I’m sure would be _very_ interested in the stuff that I hauled off your ship as evidence. Especially that drive you almost broke my fingers over.”

            Chen narrowed his eyes and Chanyeol could practically see the gears in the thief’s head turning, working quickly through different scenarios, trying to find a way out of his current predicament.

            “What did you do with my ship?” he finally asked, changing the topic.

            “I didn’t scrap it if that’s what you’re worried about,” Chanyeol said, rolling his eyes. “It’s evidence too.”

            Chen seemed to believe him, the tense line of his shoulders relaxing a fraction.

            “And all my stuff is here?”

            Channyeol pursed his lips, every lesson he learned in the Academy telling him he shouldn’t be telling the Tempian all this. It was against protocol to chat with prisoners. To be fair, it was also against protocol to flirt with them (although in Chanyeol’s defense he hadn’t known who Chen was at the time) and then proceed to drool over them like a star-struck teenager.

            Besides, Chen had already escaped from his cuffs multiple times and he hadn’t done more than sabotage their trip. Even in the fight, he hadn’t gone for the kill the way he could’ve. Hopefully if he knew that all his things were safe he would settle down a little. Hopefully.

            “Anything that seemed relevant was transferred to my ship and is safely tucked away,” Chanyeol told him, using his best professional voice. The one that made him sound like he actually knew what he was doing and was marginally – according to Baekhyun – reassuring.

            Chen just hummed, eyes still on Chanyeol, his gaze uncomfortably heavy. His demeanor still screamed calculating, but now there was something else in the set of his face. Something considering as if Chanyeol were a problem he couldn’t quite figure out.

            “That’s good to hear,” he finally said, his tone startling Chanyeol. It was the pleasantly neutral one he’d used before trying to jump him the first time, before Chanyeol had realized who he was dealing with, and it set the Helion’s nerves on edge. “It would be…problematic if something were to happen to those things. My clients wouldn’t be too happy, you see, and one group of people chasing me down is more than enough for me.”

            Not sure what to say to that, Chanyeol gave him a stiff nod, picked up his blaster which was still on the floor, and left. His nose hurt, the ship’s engines had to be checked and manually restarted, and all Chanyeol really wanted to do was sleep for the next ten years.

            Chanyeol sighed. He’d deal with his nose first, and then get them back on track. At the end of all this, he’d request some vacation days to go back to Helios and see his family. Bask in his mother’s attention a bit. Chanyeol smiled, wincing when his nose screamed in protest.

            Yeah. That’d be nice.

            

 

 

            Clearly, fantasizing about going home jinxed things, because when Chanyeol went down to check on the cruiser’s engines he was greeted with sparking wires and smoke lazily curling off some of the heavier machinery. He’d been fiddling with the generator for the past four hours, trying to at least get proper lights and the cooling system back online. The temperature hadn’t been too bad before, but now in the stale recycled air, the heat was becoming oppressive even for Chanyeol’s tastes.

            It didn’t particularly help that the air wasn’t all that stale anymore, at least not down with the engines. Instead it was becoming humid, a gross mix of steam and evaporated sweat swirling around him.

            His nose was starting to bother him again, the bandage he’d place over it soaked through with the sweat dripping down his face. It felt itchy and it took a lot of restraint not to accidentally scratch at it. What was worse, he felt itchy _everywhere_ , the moisture coating his skin leaving him feeling damp in all the wrong ways.

            At the six hour mark of still no success, Chanyeol flopped back onto the floor, groaning. He closed his eyes, letting the moisture in the air press down on him, pushing him back into the metal grating.

            It was almost therapeutic, just lying there, the low hum of the engines lulling him to sleep.

            And then his comm started ringing.

            “No,” Chanyeol whined, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t want to.”

            His comm kept ringing, as incessant and annoying as its cause.

            “Ugh, fine. I’m going, I’m going.” Chanyeol rolled onto his stomach and heaved himself up onto his feet, snatching his comm up and stomping down the corridor.

            Disgruntled, Chanyeol slammed his hand down on the lock scanner, huffing when the door took longer than normal to open. It was a bad sign, meaning that even the back-up power was starting to fail. Soon they’d loose the lights entirely while all remaining energy was funneled to the atmosphere generators. And if they lost those…well, then they’d really be fucked.

           

            “What do you want?” Chanyeol demanded the second the doors finally slid open. He blinked, coming to a halt. Chen wasn’t-

            “It’s hot.”

            Chanyeol jumped a foot in the air, his heart slamming against his rib cage. He spun so quickly to locate where Chen’s voice had come from that he almost ended up tripping over the man’s legs.

            Chen looked up at him, raising a judging eyebrow, reminding Chanyeol not for the first time of Junmyeon’s prissy cats.

            “Nice entrance there, officer. Think you can get me some water? I feel like I’m dying here.”

            Chanyeol opened his mouth, frown already in place, before closing it with a _click!_ He inhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose, reigning in the urge to snap at the Tempian.

            “I can’t get you water until the ship’s power is running again. I told you that the last time I was in here,” Chanyeol glared, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know, when you tried to bite my hand off?”

            “I remember you punching me back,” Chen quipped, lips curling up into a smile.

            The action highlighted the cut on his cheekbone and the large purpling bruise under it. Chanyeol would’ve felt marginally bad about having hit the man so hard if he weren’t still so irked by the fact that the injury didn’t detract from Chen’s looks. If anything, it only made him more attractive, a small flame of desire burning at the base of Chanyeol’s spine before he managed to quash it.

            “You. Bit. Me.” Chanyeol ground out, “You’re lucky I didn’t gag you for that.”

            Chen snorted, his second eyebrow going up to meet the first, smile growing. “Kinky.”

            “Oh my god, you’re actually twelve years old,” Chanyeol groaned, covering his face with his hands.

            “You should be glad I’m not,” Chen laughed, the sound short and loud, “because then it would be kind of weird for me to tell you that this whole sweaty, grease stained, arms on display thing you’ve got going right now is a _look_.”

            Chanyeol almost choked on his own spit.

            “Not that the uniform didn’t look good,” Chen continued, ignoring Chanyeol dying in front of him. “It was very…form-fitting. But this is so much better. I don’t think I would’ve had it in me to try and club you over the head if you’d looked like _this_ when you stepped onto my ship.”

            Chanyeol could feel himself turning red – whether from the coughing or the embarrassment he didn’t know – and prayed that the low lighting would mask most of it. If the smug smirk Chen was wearing was anything to go by, it hadn’t.

            He knew he should’ve put his jacket back on before coming in here. He felt naked in the thin sleeveless shirt and worn cargo pants he’d changed into while working in the engine room.

            “If this was all you wanted to say,” Chanyeol finally managed, catching his breath, proud when he didn’t stutter, “then I’m leaving.”

           “Wait,” Chen said, reaching out to tug at Chanyeol’s pant leg where it was tucked into his boot. “I wasn’t kidding about the water. I can’t last very long without it. Especially not in this temperature.”

            “And I already told you-“

            “I know, I know, you have to get the ship running first,” he said, waving his cuffed hands. “What I mean is, how long is that going to take. It’s been hours already.”

            Chanyeol bit his lip, unwilling to admit that he didn’t know and that it was a very real possibility he wouldn’t be able to before the remainder of their reserve energy ran out too.

            Evidently, his expression spoke volumes, because Chen grimaced.

            “Do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked

            “Of course I do,” Chnayeol scoffed. “I know machines. What I don’t know is wires and system software, and the problem is that _that’s_ what’s most damaged after all your friendly little power surges.”

            Chen frowned, his oddly straight eyebrows slanting down. He was pouting again and Chanyeol was beginning to realize that it was probably an unconscious habit. It was cute.

            Nope. Chanyeol shook his head. Not going there.

            “You know,” Chen started, “I’m not half bad with wires and tech. I mean,” he wiggled his fingers, “it kind of goes with the job description.”

            Chanyeol stared at him. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near my ship’s engine room, you’re crazy.”

            Chen rolled his eyes. “Not like I particularly want to help either, but I refuse to die out here like this. And we _are_ going to die if you don’t get things working soon because your ship’s back-up generators have maybe four more hours of juice in them before they go ka-put.”

            “How do you-“

            “Know that?” Chen finished. “I might not be able to generate any energy right now, but I can still feel it around me. And this ship is running low.”

            “I can handle it,” Chanyeol grumbled, ignoring the fact that he sounded like a petulant child.

            Chen stared at him, incredulous, his eyes wide. “Are you seriously going to be stubborn about this?”

            Chanyeol didn't answer, palming the scanner and waiting to get out.

            “Fine,” Chen threw up his arms, raising his voice as Chanyeol left. “Be difficult then. You’ll need my help eventually, though, if you have a single ounce of self-preservation in that giant body.”

 

 

 

 

            “This isn’t so bad, now is it?” Chen teased, twirling a mini laser between his fingers. “We already have lights and air filtration going again. And that’s with me still cuffed.” He turned to look at Chanyeol, meeting the cop’s scowl with a blinding smile. “Imagine what wonders I’d be able to work if you’d only take these off.”

            “Nice try,” Chanyeol said dryly. “Just be happy I un-cuffed your ankles.”

            “So stingy,” Chen sighed in mock hurt. “I thought we were being friendly now.”

            Chanyeol rolled his eyes, sulking back further into the corner he’d situated himself in. Chen had taken one look at the engines when Chanyeol had finally caved in and gotten him, and ordered Chanyeol to not touch anything. Insulted, Chanyeol had hovered over the smaller man’s shoulder, pacing back and forth until Chen had snapped at him to stop and sit his ass down.

            “How much longer is this going to take?” Chanyeol asked, picking at his shirt. It was sticking to his body like a second skin and all Chanyeol wanted to do was strip it off and hop into a nice long shower.

            Chen hummed, fiddling with a bundle of exposed wires. “Well, it depends. How much longer until we’re at full power? How much longer before secondary systems come back online? How much longer before I can get one of these damn engines running again?” He glanced over at Chanyeol. “Take your pick.”

            Chanyeol groaned, running a hand through his hair with one hand while wiping sweat off his forehead with the other.

            “How long until I can shower?”

            Chen chuckled. “Unfortunately, that falls under secondary systems and it’ll be at least another day before I can get those up and running.” He paused. “Maybe more.”

            Chanyeol made a sound akin to a dying animal and slumped onto the floor spread eagle.

            “What about the engines?”

            “One of them is completely shot. The fuses are blown and need replacing.” Chen sounded mildly apologetic about that. “We’ll be able to limp along once I patch up the other one, but we won’t get very far.” He hissed, retracting his hands, sticking his thumb in his mouth.   Chanyeol lifted his head in time to see him frowning at the reddening skin before it disappeared into his mouth again. Chanyeol immediately dropped his head back to the floor, his ears burning. “We’re definitely not making it to a Commission outpost.”

            “Figured as much,” Chanyeol mumbled.

            “I do have an idea about where we can go to get proper repairs, but you probably won’t like it very much.”

            Chanyeol sighed. “Of course you do.”

            “It’s a station settlement. I have a friend who runs a garage there. He’d be able to fix this hunk of junk up.”

            “Hey,” Chanyeol said, feeling the need to defend his cruiser’s honor. It was a piece of crap, but it was his piece of crap. “It was working perfectly fine before you went and forcefully shut it down. _Multiple times_.”

            “A new ship with working surge protectors would’ve been able to take it,” Chen shot back. “How was I supposed to know it would break down?”

            Chanyeol opened his mouth, retort ready, when Chen yelped and dropped the tool he’d been using.

            “ _Fuck!_ ” He blew on his hand. “Why is all this stuff still so _hot_ still?”

            “Let me see,” Chanyeol told him, habit kicking in from years of helping deal with accidental burns.

            “It’s fine,” Chen sighed, trying to wave the taller man off. “Can you just get me a pair of gloves or something? It’ll be a bitch if I keep burning my hands every time I have to reconnect things.”

            Chanyeol shook his head, his mouth slanted down into an apologetic grimace. “I don’t have any, never really needed them.”

            Chen rubbed his eyes. “Fantastic.”

            “I could help?” Chanyeol offered, crouching down next to the Tempian. He tried not to stare, but this close he realized that the other man was breathing hard, his exposed skin absolutely drenched in sweat.

            “Is that a question?” Chen snorted, pushing his bangs up off his forehead.

            It really was unfair, Chanyeol thought, that someone should get to look so good despite being roughed up.

            “I can help,” Chanyeol said, clearing his throat. “I won’t get burned, and all of this will go faster if we’re working together.”

            Chen gave him a wry smile, his eyes glittering with something Chanyeol couldn’t quite place. “Willing to work with a criminal, officer?”

            Chanyeol shrugged, ducking his head and scratching self-consciously at the back of his neck. “You were right. We need to work together.”

            Chen’s smile grew until his teeth were showing.

            Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “If you’re gonna say it, then just say it.”

            Chen threw his head back in a loud cackle that bounced off all the metal in the room.

            “Well, in that case” he leaned forward, until his face was just inches away from Chanyeol’s. “I told you so.”

 

 

            

            If someone had told Chanyeol that he’d one day be peaceably coexisting on a police cruiser with an A-Class criminal, he would’ve laughed right in their face. And yet, here he was.

            It took longer than Chen had anticipated to get secondary functions running, but with Chanyeol handling the mechanics and Chen working on the ships internal systems, they’d both been able to take long showers three days after the ship initially lost power. It put both of them in a much better mood almost instantly, the magic of being able to finally wash off multiple days worth of grime and sweat mellowing them out. Chen had even stopped complaining about how his cuffs were getting in the way of efficiency.

 

            They ran into another roadblock trying to get their only salvageable engine running at full power. Chen had pinpointed the areas that weren’t connecting, but when Chanyeol pulled open some of the floor panels so that Chen could see the wiring underneath he was met with a mess of nearly identical wires going every which way. Chanyeol had balked at the sight, while Chen had let out a long string of very creative expletives in multiple languages.

            “Okay,” he’d said eventually, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

 

 

            Five days later and no results, Chanyeol gave in to all of Chen’s whining and removed his cuffs. He figured that at this point, the pros of being able to pinpoint the wires they needed through channeled energy far outweighed the cons of letting Chen run loose.

            “Freedom!” the thief had crowed, throwing his arms in the air.

            “Please don’t make me regret this,” Chanyeol had sighed.

            Chen turned to him, blinding smile in place, and before Chanyeol could do anything, he found himself with an armful of very happy Tempian.

 

 

            Their dynamic shifted after that.

            Chen began to join Chanyeol for meals instead of taking them in the engine room slouched over a holo-screen. He’d laugh and share stories about some of the jobs he pulled, clearly taking great enjoyment in seeing Chanyeol’s reactions to hearing about the absolutely bat-shit crazy stunts he’d pulled.

            “Don’t Gavian lizards spit _acid_?” Chanyeol had asked, eyes wide, food long forgotten.

            “Technically, yes,” Chen answered around a mouthful of meat. “It’s not too bad though when they’re still little. Their acid is weaker.”

            Chanyeol had nightmares that night about an army of miniature Gavian lizards chasing him through a jungle. When he showed up to breakfast the next morning with dark bags under his eyes, Chen took one look at him before bursting out into peals of laughter.

 

 

            Days turned into weeks of painfully slow but steady progress. At the two week mark of sitting in the engine room, sweating through their matching white sleeveless shirts (courtesy of Chanyeol’s dwindling wardrobe), Chen had turned to Chanyeol and apologized.

            “This was _not_ what I wanted when I shorted out your ship,” Chen huffed, pouting, his eyebrows slanted up. He kicked his feet like a child throwing a tantrum and Chanyeol had to bite back the urge to coo at the other man. “I literally feel like I’m dying whenever I’m down here. It’s awful. How can you stand this heat?”

            Chanyeol laughed, loud and booming and uninhibited.

            “Helios is ten times hotter than this almost year round. What’s killing me is the humidity in here.”

            “Are you kidding me?” Chen asked, eyebrows raised. “The humidity is the only thing that makes this bearable for me. Despite all the sweating, this would be so much worse if the room was hot _and_ dry.”

            “I forget sometimes that it’s always raining on Tempes,” Chanyeol mused.

            “It’s beautiful,” Chen sighed wistfully. “I haven’t been back in years, but I highly recommend visiting. There are plenty of top notch dives in the cities that only locals know about that often book live bands to play. I think you’d really like it.”

            Chanyeol blinked, taken back. He’d shared his interest in music while fixing up dinner one night, but he hadn’t expected Chen to remember that.

            “Maybe I will, then,” Chanyeol eventually mumbled, feeling heat crawl up his neck and settle in his cheeks.

            Chen had smiled, seemingly satisfied with Chanyeol’s answer and had gone back to looking over the various holo-screens floating in front of him.

 

 

            Somewhere between Chanyeol getting coaxed into sharing stories of his youth and Chen giving him glimpses into his own childhood, Chanyeol stopped seeing Chen as the criminal he’d initially picked up.

            The part of him that had gone through eight years of Academy training was telling him that this was likely all one big ploy by the Tempian to get him to lower his guard, enabling his escape later. But, the rest of Chanyeol just couldn’t bring himself to care.

           

            Chanyeol liked how Chen laughed when he told him about the time he and Baekhyun had managed to prank Kyungsoo into running around the Academy base, only to be caught and given two months worth of detention after.

            “He sounds like a handful,” Chen had smiled, his foot nudging Chanyeol’s under the table.

            “He’s a menace, that’s what he is,” Chanyeol huffed, pink dusting his cheeks.

            “He’s your friend,” Chen said. “Which means there’s no way he can be that bad.”

            Chanyeol went to bed that night with a goofy smile plastered on his face.

 

            Chanyeol liked how Chen smiled when he talked about his friend Minseok and the bar he ran out in the neutral zone. A place that Chen had helped him find and fix up.

            “All his customers are scared of him and know better than to cause trouble. Well, except for Lu Han, but we’re all convinced he’s in love with Minseok.”

           

            He liked how animated Chen would get when complaining about someone he’d been stuck working with, or about a particularly annoying client.

            “O-tin’s have no sense of humor, _it’s the worst_.”

            Or how his voice would soften when he talked about his mother, who lived in a modest home back on Tempes. A house that Chen had moved her to after his first big job, the theft of a ceremonial Fyr-Min dagger from a big business mogul’s personal collection.

            “I remember everyone talking about that on the news back when it happened,” Chanyeol said, holding open a service hatch. “The Commission was freaking out because they couldn’t figure out how you’d pulled it off, and the dagger never surfaced after.”

            Chen popped his head out from the small service tunnel, grease streaking his face. Chanyeol gulped. Prolonged exposure to Chen in this state had made him realize that yes: the whole grease stained, sweat covered, arms on display thing was indeed a _look_.

            “The guy had had it coming,” he shrugged. “He’d stolen the dagger while mining on a Fyr-Min settlement. I simply returned it to its rightful owners.”

            Chanyeol raised an eyebrow. “How altruistic of you.”

            “Not really.” Chen scratched at his nose, and Chanyeol could’ve sworn his ears had gone red. “I knew the person whose family it belonged to. It was a favor.”

            “That’s a pretty big favor, even if it did pay well in the end,” Chanyeol teased. “Must’ve been a good friend.”

            Chen had laughed, the sound tugging a smile onto Chanyeol’s lips in return.

            “You jealous?”

            “Wha-“ Chanyeol spluttered, his voice two octaves too high. “No!”

            “Mm.” Chen sidled up close, propping his hands on either side of Chanyeol’s thighs. “Now that’s a shame.”

            Chanyeol just about died.

 

            Chanyeol just really liked Chen. It was a bitter pill to swallow for obvious reasons. Outside of the weird limbo they’d found themselves in, Chanyeol was a cop with his whole career ahead of him, and Chen was a master thief with a laundry list of heists behind him. And that was putting aside the fact that if he let Chen go and Kyungsoo found out, his CO would skin him alive. It wouldn’t work.

            But, that didn’t mean he didn’t want it to.

 

            After weeks of fiddling with wiring and machinery, they’d finally managed to get their one engine working again, and with a jumpstart from Chen they were now putting along through space, heading to the settlement where Chen’s mechanic was. Chanyeol had been so happy when the engine purred to life that he’d swept Chen up into a crushing hug, spinning him around. It was by far the most physical affection – let alone physical contact – Chanyeol had initiated, usually skittering away whenever Chen tried anything.

            Chen made a surprised noise in the back of his throat but made no move to pull away. Instead, when Chanyeol moved to set him down, face red and embarrassment setting in, Chen leaned up on his tip-toes and kissed him square on the mouth.

            Chanyeol froze, arms still around Chen’s waist, heart hammering in his chest. He was panicking, caught between pushing the smaller man away and giving in to the moment. Luckily for the both of them – because Chanyeol was about one second away from having a meltdown – Chen made the decision for him, threading his fingers into Chanyeol’s hair, tugging gently and nibbling on his bottom lip.

            Apparently all the incentive needed, Chanyeol melted into the kiss, letting Chen take control. Chen licked at the seam of Chanyeol’s lips and Chanyeol gladly parted them, allowing Chen to slip his tongue inside. Chanyeol groaned, welcoming it when Chen angled his head to deepen the kiss, the air around them quickly becoming heated. It wasn’t until Chen was pulling back, small bemused frown on his face that Chanyeol realized it wasn’t the air that was heating up, but him. Literally.

            Mortified, Chanyeol jumped back, his too long limbs flailing.

            “Sorry! I- it was- I mean- just, sorry.”

            Chen licked his lips, running a hand through his hair. Chanyeol couldn’t help but notice how dark his eyes were, complimenting the pretty flush painting his cheeks.

            “Sorry for kissing back or for almost catching fire right next to the engines?” he asked, tone carefully light.

            Chanyeol bit his lip. “The fire part.”

            Chen nodded, his eyes hooded. “Good.”

 

            Chen dragged Chanyeol back to his room, manhandling him with a surprising amount of strength for his compact stature that sent a thrill up and down Chanyeol’s spine, jump starting the sweet burn of arousal in his veins.   He fucked Chanyeol into his mattress until they were both too tired to move, falling asleep curled around each other, wrapped in the soft material of Chanyeol’s sheets.

 

 

            They fell together after that.

            Waking up the next day, Chanyeol found himself gripping at his sheets while Chen slowly pushed into him. He was still sore from the previous day, and the pain mixed with the building pleasure into a low flame burning at the base of his spine, making his entire body sing. Chen rocked into him gently, long slow thrusts that had Chanyeol squirming beneath him, one of his hands coming up to fist Chanyeol’s already straining cock. Chanyeol finished embarrassingly quick with a long, low moan of Chen’s name on his lips.

 

            The next time was in the shower a few days later, Chen sneaking in to join him, crowding him against the wall, his hands running along Chanyeol’s arms.

            “So nice,” Chen had sighed, nipping at Chanyeol’s bicep before soothing the skin with his tongue. “So very, very nice.”

            Chanyeol had found himself bent over, forearms braced against the cool metal wall, water running hot down his back while Chen fucked into him at a brutal pace.

            Chen’s fingers dug into his hips, pulling him back on every thrust forward, dragging out a stream of soft _ah-ah-ah’s_ to blend with the loud slaps of wet skin on skin contact. Chanyeol keened when Chen shifted angles, hitting just the right spot to make Chanyeol see white, his muscles tightening around Chen inside him.

           

            Chanyeol came with his hand around his dick and Chen grinding into his ass, biting down onto Chanyeol’s shoulder with a grunt while he rode out his own orgasm to completion.

 

 

            The small kitchen/dining area, the storage room, pressed up against a wall; nowhere in the ship was sacred anymore. With not much to do, Chanyeol was more than happy to let Chen corner him and strip him down whenever he wanted, leaving marks on every inch of exposed skin he could reach.

            There was something vaguely possessive about it all that Chanyeol basked in. Whenever he looked in the mirror after showering now, more often than not, his skin would be littered in hickeys and finger sized bruises. He looked like he’d been mauled by a very affectionate animal, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. Chen usually looked the same, Chanyeol always making sure to leave his marks in visible places and Chen parading them around with something akin to pride.

            It was easy between them, despite the undercurrent of desperation that colored everything they did.

            Not like it wasn’t to be expected, though. They had an expiration date for all of this that they were slowly but surely approaching.

 

 

           

            “You said you had someone chasing you,” Chanyeol started while they were laying in his bed, three days out from the station settlement. “I just kind of figured it was the police because of, well, obvious reasons, but you made it seem like it wasn’t when we were arguing in the cargo hold.”

            “You mean your very well stocked storage room?” Chen asked, teasing.

            “Cargo hold,” Chanyeol corrected, nuzzling against the nape of the Tempian’s neck.

            Chen laughed, patting the Helion’s arms wrapped securely around his waist. “Fine, fine, cargo hold. I thought you’d forgotten about that.”

            “I’m inexperienced, not stupid,” Chanyeol snorted.

            “Fair,” Chen conceded.

            Chanyeol gave Chen a gentle squeeze. “So? Are you gonna tell me?”

            Chen hummed. “Honestly, I’d really rather not.”

            “What? Why? Is it some sort of loyalty amongst criminals thing? Because I’m pretty sure we’re-“

            “Holy- breathe Chanyeol, breathe.”

            Chanyeol huffed, frowning. “Chen-“

            “The drive you found in my pocket when you arrested me contains proof of a crime ring that’s been running the Corvian quadrant,” Chen said, cutting Chanyeol off. “I was going to give it to a buddy of mine on Elan to turn it in to the Space Commission, but you picked me up first.”

Chen rolled over, turning so that he could face Chanyeol while they talked.

            “You have to understand,” he said, eyebrows slanting up in worry. “These people are dangerous and virtually untouchable. I don’t want you having to deal with them, so the less you know the better.”

            Chanyeol sighed, rubbing his eyes, trying to chase sleep away. “I don’t appreciate being left in the dark. I’m still technically a cop, you know.”

            “Not a very good one,” Chen quipped, his lips curling up into a cat-like smile, shuffling closer to peck Chanyeol on the nose for emphasis. “No cop worth their salt lets an intergalactic thief have their way with them.”

            “My point _is_ , if I can help then I want to,” Chanyeol said, scrunching up his nose, swatting at Chen’s arm. Chen waggled his eyebrows at him when all he hit was firm muscle. “I could even take the drive for you.”

            Chen eyed him. “This isn’t any of your business, Chanyeol.”

            “It kind of is.”

            Chen sighed, throwing a leg over Chanyeol’s waist, snuggling closer to him seeking warmth.

            “Let’s get your ship back to tip-top shape first. We can talk about all of this after.”

            Chanyeol bit back the words sitting on his tongue, catching the finality of Chen’s tone. Long after Chen was deep asleep, his chest rising and falling with even breaths, Chanyeol was still awake, kept up by all the worries bouncing around his head. Chen’s unwillingness to share the identity of his pursuers niggling at him.

            It’ll be okay, he tried to convince himself, tucking his face into Chen’s hair and breathing in. Everything will work out. Somehow.

 

            They had three days left.

           

           

 

           

            The Fisk Settlement was bigger than Chanyeol had thought it would be, a giant repurposed station floating in orbit around a small jungle planet.

            It was also so obviously a hot bed for criminal activity that Chanyeol had to laugh. Chen had insisted on flying in with the cruiser’s camouflage activated, and on Chanyeol changing into a ratty pair of mechanic’s overalls before they docked at his friend’s garage.

            “You can’t look like a cop,” Chen told him, dressing in the clothes he’d been arrested in.

            Chanyeol stared at him wriggling into his pants, mouth going dry at the sight of how the material clung to the Tempian’s firm thighs. “I know.”

            “Also,” Chen hopped a little to get the pants all the way up, turning to face Chanyeol when he was done, still shirtless. He made a face before walking closer to manhandle Chanyeol into the overall’s sleeves, rolling the cuffs up to Chanyeol’s elbows. “Keep covered. I’d rather not have to deal with anyone trying to make a move on you. The people here have a thing for wide-eyed, fresh faces like yours.”

            “ _The people here_ , huh?” Chanyeol smirked, leaning down. “I’m assuming you fall under that category as well?”

            Chen held his hand up to his chest in mock hurt. “I’m a gentleman, I’d _never_ take advantage of someone like that.”

            Chanyeol chuckled low in his throat, snaking his hands around Chen’s waist, pulling him close until they were pressed chest to chest. “Sure you wouldn’t. Not even to escape criminal charges?”

            The question had been asked innocently enough that it took Chen a few seconds before understanding dawned on his face.

            “No.” He met and held Chanyeol’s gaze. “I’ve never slept with someone to get my way before. I’m good at what I do, there was never a need to cross that line, and I’m not starting now.” He tugged Chanyeol down into a kiss, biting and sucking until Chanyeol was out of breath and his mouth was red. He peppered quick kisses along Chanyeol’s cheeks and down the column of his neck. “I wasn’t bluffing back then when I threatened to fuck with your ships atmosphere generator. If I thought I was in danger, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat. All of _this_ ” he gestured between them, “was gone into knowing that you could still turn me over to the Commission in the end.”

            Chanyeol’s whole face felt red, but he preened under the sentiment. “Well that’s comforting to hear.”

            “Good,” Chen pecked him one last time on the lips, leaning back with his usual sharp grin in place. “Now, shall we? Kris is probably waiting for us.”

 

           

            “Why is it that you only ever come by when you need something?” Kris asked when they’d docked and disembarked, standing in front of the ship’s walkway with his hands on his hips.

            “It’s a sign of true friendship,” Chen crooned, walking up to the mechanic with a huge smile plastered on his face.

            Chanyeol could only stare, gawking as Chen pulled the other man into a hug.

            Chanyeol was tall, easily towering over most people he met, but Kris was even _taller_. Baekhyun used to say that height was wasted on Chanyeol because he slouched most of the time to make himself less intimidating, but Kris wore it with pride. When Chen released him, he straightened up to his full height, shoulders back and fond smile on his otherwise stoic features.

            It didn’t help that his arms were covered with tattoos and his ears were heavy with piercings, his hair a shocking shade of silver.

            “Who’s this?” Kris asked, snapping Chanyeol out of his thoughts.

            Chen turned to look where Chanyeol was standing awkwardly, hands shoved in his pockets.

            “A good Samaritan who picked me up when my ship died on me,” he said, the lie coming out so smooth that if Chanyeol didn’t know the truth even he would’ve bought it.

            Kris narrowed his eyes, clearly used to dealing with the Tempian, and sized Chanyeol up.

            “You’re pretty far from home, Helion. What were you doing all the way out here in a…” he looked past Chanyeol at his ship, raising an eyebrow, “Commission issued cruiser?”

            Chanyeol froze like a deer in headlights. Even Chen looked surprised.

            “It’s not-“

            “Don’t bother,” Kris snorted, waving away Chanyeol’s attempts at denial. “I have an eye for this kind of thing, makes me good at my job. Besides, only two types of people are just wandering around this region of space: criminals and cops. And you,” he pointed at Chanyeol, “are definitely not a criminal.”

            “Guess I should’ve known you’d see through the camo,” Chen grumbled, running a hand through his hair. He fixed Kris with a look that screamed danger. “This isn’t going to be a problem, is it?”

            Kris’ other eyebrow joined the first, lips twitching up into a smirk. “Relax, if you’re vouching for him then we’re cool. No need to get aggressive.”

            Chen nodded, but didn’t quite relax.

            “So touchy,” Kris poked, his tone coated in mirth. He gave Chanyeol another once-over. “You must really like this one.”

            “Eh,” Chen shrugged, smiling when Chanyeol made a noise of offense. “He’s okay.”

Kris laughed, a surprisingly gummy smile that softened all the sharp angles of his face. “Whatever you say, man.” He turned to Chanyeol. “Can you show me where your engine room is? I’d like to get you guys back in the air as soon as possible.”

            Chanyeol nodded as Chen scoffed. “Trying to get rid of me so soon? I’m hurt.”

            “Trust me,” Kris said, joining Chanyeol on the ship’s walkway. “You don’t want to stay long.”

            “What? Why?” Chen called, and Chanyeol could hear the frown in his voice.

            “Some people in uniform came around looking for you. Pretty sure they’re still somewhere on the station, trying to find someone who knows where you are.”

            “ _Shit_ ,” Chen hissed, the sound coming out louder than he’d probably intended.

            Chanyeol looked over his shoulder in time to see panic and fear flash across the smaller man’s face, his skin paler than usual. He was walking away before Chanyeol could ask if he was okay, leaving Chanyeol with the sinking feeling that things were about to go very wrong.

 

           

            As it turned out, Kris was even clumsier than Chanyeol. Sure, he knew his shit when it came to machines, pinpointing the parts that needed to be fixed and replaced in a heartbeat, but he hadn’t taken a single step across the ship’s threshold before he whacked against something. The collision resulted in a loud _bang!_ that nearly gave Chanyeol a heart attack with how on edge he was, lost in thought trying to read into Chen’s reactions earlier.

            “Ow,” Kris moaned, large hands covering his forehead.

            “Oh,” Chanyeol chuckled, feeling bad. “I probably should’ve warned you to duck.”

            Kris sent him a wounded look but walked with his shoulders hunched the rest of the way, wary of bumping into something again.

 

            The two of them sat in the engine room, Kris asking questions and Chanyeol answering what he could, until Kris deemed the supplied information to be satisfactory and motioned for them both to leave.

            Exiting the ship, they found Chen sitting on a stack of crates, his legs swinging back and forth. The action made him look younger, and Chanyeol had a moment of shock where he realized he didn’t actually know how old Chen was. He knew he was a few years older than himself, but that was about it.

            “I looked over the engines,” Kris said, walking up to where Chen was perched. “You’re in luck, the one that doesn’t start up isn’t completely busted. It just overheated which fucked up some of the control panels connected to it. It’ll take eight hours, tops, for me to replace the panel and wires and get them linked up with the ship’s systems.”

            “Good,” Chen hopped off the crates, landing without a sound. “I’m gonna take Chanyeol to get something to eat then. We haven’t had a proper meal in weeks, and I could really go for some of Yixing’s food right now.”

            Kris considered him, likely noticing the same thing that Chanyeol had. Chen was hiding something. Unlike Chanyeol, Kris didn’t push, instead going to root through a large toolbox.

            “Okay. I’ll message you when I’m done.” He waved them off. “Be safe out there.”

            “Will do,” Chen smiled, the action not quite reaching his eyes, giving Kris a joking salute.

            He grabbed Chanyeol’s hand, tugging him along as he started towards the door, his grip tighter than normal. Chanyeol winced when a few stray sparks skittered along Chen’s skin and stung his own. He wasn’t about to let go, though, concern rising in his chest.

            “Oh, one more thing,” Kris called after them before they reached the door. “Chanyeol, when you’re walking around out there, don’t slouch. Believe it or not, Helion’s have quite a reputation in these parts. No one will mess with you if you just walk tall.”

            Not sure what to say to that, Chanyeol mumbled a quiet ‘thanks’ that there was no way Kris heard, and followed Chen out into the bustle of Fisk station.

 

 

            Instead of going to get food like Chen had said, the Tempian had led Chanyeol around, showing him all of his favorite spots. He dragged Chanyeol from shop to shop, chatting pleasantly with the store owners, introducing Chanyeol as his friend whenever anyone asked.

            Chanyeol had never seen so many different species gathered in one place, and yet he seemed to be the biggest attraction, getting wide-eyed stares wherever they went. Kris had been right. They didn’t run into any other Helions, and even the meanest looking thugs quickly looked away when Chanyeol rolled his shoulders back, standing at his full height.

 

            “Am I that scary?” Chanyeol eventually had to ask, incredulous. They had finally gotten to the restaurant, and even though the server – a tall boy with an incredible poker face and a name tag that read ‘Sehun’ – didn’t so much as blink when they walked in, most of the other patrons hadn’t stopped sending surreptitious glances towards their table since they sat down.

            It was a little distressing.

            “Hm?” Chen looked up from the menu, his eyes focusing on Chanyeol in a way that told him the Tempian’s mind had been elsewhere. As it had been since Kris’ garage.

            “Everyone keeps staring at me.”

            Chen shrugged, corners of his lips twitching. “You’re tall.”

            “Kris is tall,” Chanyeol deadpanned. “Our waiter is tall. The Orvian Giants we passed a few stores back are tall. No one is looking at them like they’re about to sprout wings and fly.”

            “Kris already told you, being a Helion means something here,” Chen said, biting back a smile.

            Chanyeol scrunched his nose. “I don’t get it though. Why?”

            Chen leaned his elbows on the table. “It’s nothing big. Helions are generally known as a warrior species, and they don’t travel off-planet very much. So, when they do show up off world, especially in a place like this, it makes waves.”

            Chanyeol processed that bit of information in silence. It’s not that he didn’t know Helions had a reputation for being fighters capable of taking and dealing damage, and that’s before taking the mini suns they carry around inside them into account. But, he’d never seen such a big reaction before.

            “So, basically,” he started slowly, “everyone here thinks I’m a potential badass.”

            Chen choked on his water. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

            “Well, if they’re nervous because they see Helions as fighters, and a Helion suddenly shows up in a station all but run by criminals, then obviously it has to be because they think said Helion is some kick-ass fighter,” Chanyeol finished with a sunny smile.

            “I think it’s more likely that they recognize me, and are nervous because they think you’re some new muscle I hired,” Chen laughed, some of the tension that had been lining his body easing up. “If anything, you’re benefitting from _my_ reputation.”

            Chanyeol pouted. “You’re a killjoy, has anyone ever told you that?”

            “This would be a first,” Chen smirked.

            Sehun came with their drinks and appetizers (“Courtesy of Yixing.”) and Chen pushed back his chair.

            “I’ll be right back,” he said.

            “Ere a ou oin?” Chanyeol garbled around a mouthful of food.

            “To the bathroom,” Chen laughed, somehow understanding what he’d said.

            Chanyeol waved him off, happily stuffing his face with more food. They’d run out of fresh fruits and dried meats a few weeks into being stuck on the ship, so finally getting to eat _real_ food was nothing short of a religious experience at this point. It helped, of course, that the food was delicious in its own right.

            He’d munched his way through one of the appetizers and was working on the second when two men slid into Chen’s empty seat and the one next to it.

            Chanyeol paused mid chew and looked up.

            The first thing he noticed was that they were both wearing Commission uniforms. The one sitting across from him had the distinct green stripes of a Liktor and wasn’t much taller than Chen was. He gave Chanyeol a pleasant smile faker than the synthetic flowers sitting in the middle of the table. His friend was a broadly built Croan, small spikes lining his cheekbones, his face etched into a frown.

            “Can I help you?” Chanyeol asked, swallowing down his food, immediately on guard.

            “Yes actually,” the Liktor spoke up, his voice saccharine. “I have it on good authority that you’re traveling with someone of interest to the Commission.”

            Panic flooded Chanyeol so quickly he almost forgot to breathe. It took everything he had to force himself to stay calm and remember that they didn’t seem to know that he was a cop too. His mind flashed back to the conversation he’d had with Chen, about a massive crime ring and the drive he’d been carrying. He thought about how Chen had been purposely vague while answering his questions, and the panic that had crossed the Tempian’s face when Chanyeol had first boarded his ship. Most of all, he thought about what kind of cop would parade around a station known for criminal activity in full uniform, completely comfortable with their surroundings.

            “I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Chanyeol told him eventually, putting his fork down, noting the way the Croan followed the action.

            “Really?” the Liktor asked. “Hm, I highly doubt that.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Seeing as how the man we’re looking for just walked up behind you.”

            Chanyeol whipped his head around, spotting Chen instantly. His eyes were steely, a hardness to his face that Chanyeol had never seen before, even when he’d arrested him. With measured steps he came over, sliding a hand over Chanyeol’s shoulder and up the back of his neck, briefly curling his fingers in his hair. A small intimate action to reassure himself more than anything.

            He sat down in the chair to Chanyeol’s left, hand dropping into his lap, mouth quirked up into a polite smile that stopped at his cheeks.

            “Officer Jang,” Chen greeted, his voice cold, devoid of any real pleasantries. “I was hoping I’d never see you again.”

            “I’m sure you were,” the Liktor – Jang – chuckled. “Lucky us, we found you.”

            Chen hummed, turning to the Croan. “And how have you been, Officer Yoon? How’s the trafficking business going? Still beating the shit out of people for Jang here?”

            “Wouldn’t you like to know,” Yoon sneered, his eyes flicking to Chanyeol before going back to Chen.

            Chanyeol felt more than saw Chen tense next to him, an almost imperceptible flinch forward.

            “You know, I never pegged you for the type to hire help,” Jang said, looking straight at Chanyeol. “He _is_ a beauty though. Looks strong. I can see the appeal.”

            Chanyeol bristled in his seat, temperature rising steadily under his skin. Chen’s hand grabbed at his thigh under the table, a firm reminder to keep still and not react no matter what. To the men sitting across from them – the cops, Chanyeol reminded himself, ignoring the rise of bile at the back of his throat – he smiled pleasantly, the picture of calm. If it weren’t for the fact that Chanyeol had spent so much time around the man recently, even he would’ve thought that Chen was perfectly comfortable here, despite the corner he had been backed into.

            Chanyeol _did_ know better though, so he noticed the muscle twitching in Chen’s jaw and the way his entire body was ready to jump into action if necessary. The grip the Tempian held on Chanyeol’s thigh was almost bruising, but definitely meant to be reassuring. His way of saying that if – or more likely, _when_ – shit hit the fan, he wouldn’t leave Chanyeol behind.

            “You know,” Jang started, leaning his arms on the table, sleazy smile curling at his lips, “this could’ve all been avoided if you’d never stuck your nose where it didn’t belong and taken that drive.”

            Chen’s pleasant smile didn’t falter. “You’re not the first person to tell me that. I just can’t seem to help myself, though.”

            “That bad habit of yours is going to get you and your new friend here killed,” Jang said.

            “Hmm, we’ll see about that,” Chen laughed, hand squeezing Chanyeol’s thigh twice. “We’re pretty hardy.”

            Jang narrowed his eyes, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “Fine, we’ll do this the hard way. Yoon,” he snapped his fingers, “crush our little thief here and kill his pet Helion.”

            Before the Croan could move, Chen slammed his chair back and upturned the table on the two officers. He grabbed Chanyeol’s wrist and yanked him up.

            “Run!”

            Chanyeol didn’t need to be told twice. He broke out into a sprint, pushing past restaurant patrons and barreling out into the crowd outside, Chen hot on his heels.

            “Which way?” Chanyeol shouted, pushing people out of the way.

            “Follow me,” Chen shouted back, over taking Chanyeol to lead the way. “We need to get out somewhere open.”

            There was a loud crash behind them, followed by terrified screams, and Chanyeol had to resist the urge to look over his shoulder. Something large went hurtling past Chanyeol’s head, crashing into a store front just ahead of them, crushing the people it landed on with a wet _crunch_.

            “Fuck,” Chanyeol yelped, speeding up. Over his own heavy breathing and the shouts all around them, Chanyeol could just make out the heavy thumps of Officer Yoon gaining on them. “I fucking hate Croans!”

            “Join the party,” Chen yelled over his shoulder, never slowing. “Turn right!”

            Following Chen’s directions, Chanyeol ducked down a narrow alleyway, sticking close to the Tempian. They were almost to the other side when Jang stepped out from around the corner, blaster aimed at Chen’s head.

            The Tempian ground to a halt, chest heaving. Chanyeol managed to stop before bowling into him, turning around in time to see Yoon lumber into view, puffed out in all his armored glory. He had to shrink a little to squeeze into the alley, but that didn’t make his form any less intimidating.

            “We aren’t going to chase you anymore,” Jang growled, anger radiating off him in waves.

            Yoon shoved Chanyeol against the wall with one hand while grabbing Chen around the neck with the other, lifting the Tempian off the floor.

            “No!” Chanyeol tried to struggle free, kicking as hard as he could at Yoon’s knee.

            “It really didn’t have to be this way,” Jang sighed, walking closer, eyeing Chen as he slowly choked, sparks racing from his hands ineffectually up the Croan’s armored skin. “Our boss actually likes you. Admires your talents.”

            “He…can go f-uck him…self,” Chen managed. “I…don’t w…ork ‘ith people who…kidnap a-nd se…ll kids.”

            “A thief with morals,” Jang drawled, holstering his weapon and searching Chen for the drive. “Cute.”

            Chen made a weak, cut off gurgle, trying to push Jang away, and something inside Chanyeol snapped.

            He saw red, registering a loud cry of pain too deep to be Chen’s voice before fire was exploding all around him, dragging Chanyeol into the cool confines of unconsciousness with the force of it.

 

 

           

            When Chanyeol finally came to again, it was to find himself in an unfamiliar room. He panicked, trying to sit up, and felt a strong arm slide behind his back to help.

            “Thank the storms,” Chen sighed, coming into view, relief etched into his features. “I was starting to think you’d never wake up.”

            Chanyeol opened his mouth to talk and ended up coughing, his mouth and throat unbearably dry.

            “Here,” Chen said, handing Chanyeol a bottle of water.

            “Thanks,” Chanyeol croaked after downing half of it, wincing at how wrecked his voice sounded.

            Chen shook his head, running a hand through Chanyeol’s hair, scratching gently the way he knew Chanyeol liked. “It’s the least I could do.”

            Chanyeol melted into Chen’s side, surveying the room now that he was slightly more awake.

            “Where are we?”

            “Kris’ place,” Chen told him, shifting to better accommodate his weight. “It’s connected to his garage. He let us stay here when I showed up dragging your unconscious ass.”

            “Oh,” Chanyeol said, the events from yesterday coming crashing back. “Right. Thanks.”

            Chen turned a little to kiss the top of his head, the arms around Chanyeol tightening. “I already told you, it’s the least I could do. You saved my life after all.”

            Chanyeol vaguely remembered Chen being choked and not being able to do anything, the same panic from then spiking in his chest before he reminded himself that they were safe now.

            “What happened to the two cops?” he asked, taking another swig of water.

            Chen paused, his body tensing briefly. “You don’t remember?”

            Chanyeol snorted. “Would I be asking if I did?”

            “Well,” he started, choosing his words carefully, “they’re not a problem anymore.”

            “That’s not really an answer,” Chanyeol frowned, trying to sit up again to look Chen in the eye. Anxiety began to creep in when he noticed the hesitation in Chen’s expression. “Chen, what happened?”

            Chen sighed, rubbing his forehead, his lips pursed. “They’re dead, Chanyeol.”

            Chanyeol froze, his blood running cold. He opened his mouth to ask if Chen had been the one to do it, but he knew the answer to that question before it was even out.

            “Kris said I shouldn’t tell you,” Chen continued, eyes on Chanyeol to gauge his reactions. “But I thought you should know.”

            “I killed them,” Chanyeol whispered, memories filled with nothing but fire coming back to him in pieces.

            “They were going to kill us.”

            “But I- shit. I burned them. I’ve never- _shit_.” Chanyeol’s breaths were coming in shorter, panic bubbling up again, constricting his chest. He whimpered. “I killed them.”

            “No. Chanyeol listen to me.” Chen cupped his face, rubbing his thumbs along Chanyeol’s cheekbones. He shuffled closer so that they were looking at each other eye-to-eye. “What you did was self-defense. Did they die as a result? Yes. Did you have another choice? No. You did what you had to do, and I am so very thankful for that.”

            Chanyeol’s eyes were watering, stinging with tears that wanted to be shed. He hiccupped, feeling like shit. Even if he knew that Chen was right, and there hadn’t been any other option, it didn’t change the fact that this was Chanyeol’s first time taking lives.

            Seeming to sense what was going on in Chanyeol’s head, Chen pulled him into a hug, letting the much larger Helion curl into his lap like a giant baby. He pressed kisses into Chanyeol’s hair, rubbing his back when he started to cry. After, when Chanyeol had exhausted himself, Chen helped him lie back down, slipping under the covers with him and tangling their legs together.

           

            The next morning, Chen helped him into the shower, kissing him breathless under the warm spray. Chen didn’t leave his side once, doting on and soothing Chanyeol the second it seemed like he was going to cry again. It would’ve been embarrassing, being cared for like this with Kris watching, if it weren’t for how genuine all of it felt, how palpable Chen’s concern was.

            It made Chanyeol feel immensely better.

 

 

 

            Of course, things couldn’t stay that way forever. A week after Chanyeol woke up, he was prepping his ship, getting ready to leave.

            “You sure you can’t come with? I could drop you off wherever you need on the way,” Chanyeol asked for the umpteenth time, hoping that somehow Chen had changed his mind.

            Chen shook his head. “I can’t. I need to go pick up my ship from where you left it, and then it’s back on the road from there.”

            Chanyeol’s lips twitched up into a small, sad smile. “No rest for the wicked, huh?”

            “Excuse you, I’m not wicked. I’m charming,” Chen huffed.

            Chanyeol’s smile grew, the familiar ease of their banter lifting some of the weight off his chest. “Sure you are. And I’m a fairy princess.”

            Chen gasped. “You are?”

            Chanyeol snorted, hitting the smaller man on the shoulder. Chen smiled up at him, his lips curling prettily at the ends. Chanyeol bit back a sigh. He really did have a face sculpted by the gods.

            “The Belt.”

            “The what now?” Chanyeol asked, snapping out of his thoughts.

            Chen laughed. “The Belt. After you go back to the Commission and turn in that drive, if you want to see me again go to The Belt and ask for Jongdae. Minseok will know what to do.”

            “And who’s Jongdae?”

            Chen fisted a hand in Chanyeol’s shirt, dragging him down for a bruising kiss that had Chanyeol clinging on for dear life.

            “Me,” he breathed out against Chanyeol’s lips, giving them one last peck for good measure.

            Chanyeol’s eyes went round, staring at the man in front of him. A man who almost everyone in the galaxy only knew by his alias.

            “You sure telling me that was a good idea?”

            Chen – no, Jongdae – laughed as he walked backwards down the walkway, the familiar sound sending waves of warmth spreading through Chanyeol’s body.

“Well,” his smile was blinding, “guess we’ll just have to wait and see, now won’t we?”

Chanyeol laughed, his chest feeling truly light for the first time in weeks.

            “Yeah, I guess we will.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to chat or scream about exo (and various other groups) I'm over on twitter @nu_exooo ^_^


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